“Oh, I’m fucking furious. You lied, Em. That’s not okay. But it doesn’t matter right now.”
My eyes slip shut, offering me a brief reprieve. “I’m so sorry.”
“Believe it or not, I understand why you did it.”
“You do?” I bleat.
His torso vibrates with a long-suffering sigh. “You spent a long time taking care of yourself out there. That included hiding this from the world, right?”
“It still freaks me out when you read me like a book.”
“Quick study,” he jokes tiredly. “I am pissed off, Em. But I’m also here for you.”
“You don’t have to make me feel better about this.”
“Again, it’s kinda my job.”
“Well, I could’ve come clean weeks ago. I could’ve told you what’s been happening. Instead, I put everyone on that raid at risk.”
“You did. We’ll be having words about that later.”
Bathing in his soothing scent, I crane my neck to look up at his handsome face. Those devastating baby blues hold so much unconditional care, it’s hard to stare directly into them.
“May I?” He looks up at my head.
Instinctively, I know what he’s asking for.
“I guess so.”
Warner slips a hand into my hair, loose and flowing after I removed my ponytail to be examined. His fingers glide over my skull, searching for the scar I know he’ll find.
When he locates the raised skin I keep hidden, his lips part on a fast inhale. I rarely look at it in the mirror or touch it, but I know the scar is unpleasant. They didn’t exactly care about stitching me up neatly.
“Christ,” he mutters. “It feels huge.”
“Big enough.”
“I don’t know how you survived their evil all alone, love. But I’m so fucking glad you did.”
“Why?” I laugh listlessly. “I’ve been nothing but a pain in your backside since I called you.”
Amusement mellows the hard, tired lines that mar his face beneath his five o’clock shadow.
“Hardly. I’ll always take care of you, Em.”
“Because you love Tom, right?”
It’s foolish and dangerous to ask, but I do it anyway. An indecipherable emotion fills his sparkling aquamarines. It’s the same look as when he caught me locked in Hyland’s arms.
“He’s my best friend.” Warner’s answer comes slowly, deliberately. “I love him like a brother.”
“Right.”
His eyebrows curve in a concentrated frown. “That doesn’t obligate me to be here, Em.”
“It doesn’t?”
“Perhaps it did before. But no, not now.”
